


Stuck On You

by ElleMartin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Animagus Draco Malfoy, Animagus Hermione Granger, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElleMartin/pseuds/ElleMartin
Summary: Things get a bit tangled when Hermione and Draco are paired together for a project in Transfiguration. 8th Year. Animagus. Complete. One shot.





	Stuck On You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kyonomiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyonomiko/gifts).



> Written for for the Dramione FanFiction Forum’s “Beach Blanket Bingo” drabble challenge winner, Kyonomiko. Prompt: “It reeks in here.” Beta: i_was_botwp

 

“Merlin’s shriveled knob, Granger, how do you live like this? It reeks in here. Smells like rotted fish.”

 

“Believe me, I know,” Hermione replied, her voice muffled by the bubble around her head. “That stench is coming from the potions, I assure you it is not my room. I’ve been casting refreshing charms for days to ill effect. I’m still a bit dismayed that Professor McGonagall wouldn’t let us store them in her classroom, though I guess it would be harder to insure that they wouldn’t be disturbed, and--”

 

“Granger?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Hermione’s left eye twitched slightly. Offering to store the potions under her bed had been a regrettable decision. Allowing Malfoy in her room had been a colossal mistake.  She heard him cast the Bubble-Head Charm on himself, then hastily remove it, muttering, “Well, that didn’t help. It only trapped the stench in with me.” Hermione didn’t bother to suppress a snicker; she had cast her own Bubble-Head Charm before entering the room.

 

Hermione had been thrilled beyond belief when Professor McGonagall had announced that she had chosen a few special eighth years to volunteer for the animagus project, and actually learn how to transform into their animal forms. Her excitement had quickly died away, however, when the professor had then put them into pairs of her own choosing, and Hermione had for some Godforsaken reason been paired with Malfoy. 

 

She took a deep cleansing breath in an effort to calm her face, longing for those weeks in the not so distant past when Malfoy had been rendered mostly speechless by the mandrake leaf in his mouth. She’d even been blessed with extra weeks as they’d had to repeat the process for two additional months. First, because Malfoy hadn’t realized that he wasn’t allowed to remove the leaf to eat, drink, or even brush his teeth. (That last bit had been especially hard for Little Miss “perfect oral hygiene” herself.) At the end of the second month, the skies had been entirely too cloudy to get pure rays from the full moon on their phials. She’d begun to believe that there was a conspiracy against them ever being able to finish this project. Once some of the other pairs had successfully completed their transformations, she had begun to panic about being last, and well, let’s just say that Hermione could not have that. 

 

Finally, though, they’d had every step go perfectly. Their potions were ready, they had met every night to go over the spell, and a big lightning storm was raging outside. It was time to transform.

 

“Have you given any more thought as to what form you’ll take?” she asked and received a shrug in answer. “They say your form represents your personality and such. It also matches your patronus, so I already know mine will be an otter. What’s your patronus?” 

 

“Never made one,” he answered a bit dispassionately. “What do you think I’ll be?”

 

Hermione studied him carefully for a moment and thought about what form he might take if she went by personality traits. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that she had gotten to know Malfoy much better over these past few months.She still didn’t like him by any means, but there wasn’t much venom between the two either. Venom, hmmm…

 

“Maybe a snake of some sort?”

 

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Sure, that’s what everyone says. That or a dragon. Always something cold-blooded and scaly.”

 

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

 

“Whatever, Granger.” He picked up the box with the potions cushioned inside. “Where are we doing this? Do we actually have to go out in the storm?”

 

Hermione gave her notes and textbook a quick scan. “There’s nothing about having to be in the storm. We should be able to do it right here. Oh, wait… it does say to use a large space for the first transformation as we don’t know how big our forms will be.”

 

“We could probably use the Great Hall,” Malfoy suggested. “It’s after dinner, so it’ll be empty, and we’d have lightning flashing across the ceiling. That might give this an extra boost.”

 

“That’s actually brilliant,” Hermione said. “Let’s go.”

 

The braziers along the walls of the Great Hall had been extinguished after dinner, and the cavernous room was lit only by the glow of the floating candles and sporadic bursts of lightning across the enchanted ceiling. A tense ominous feeling permeated the room, dimming Hermione’s bubbling enthusiasm a bit. As a blinding thread of light danced across the ceiling, Draco flicked his wand, sending all of the tables and benches up against the walls. 

 

“Perhaps we should light the braziers as well? she asked.

 

Malfoy gave her an indefinable look, “I think it best not to, as it may attract too much attention.” He then handed her her potion phial and held his own up as if in a toast. “Bottoms up?”

 

“Wait-” Hermione said, holding up her hand before he could take the potion. “We have to do the incantation once more.”

 

They each pointed their wands at their hearts and reverently chanted, “Amato. Animo. Animato. Animagus.” Without so much as a breath more, they downed the potions and looked at each other expectantly.

 

“Do you feel anything?” Hermione asked.

 

“Nothing yet,” Malfoy answered. “No, wait, there it is.”

 

Hermione’s stomach gave an awful lurch. “Ugh, like I ate some dodgy prawns.”

 

“Gross, oddly specific, and yet accurate as hell.” Malfoy grumbled as his face took on a sickly pallor.

 

“I feel like we should be writing this down. Did you bring parchment? I may have a quill somewhere.”

 

“You’re glowing.”

 

“Am I? Oh, goodness, look at that, I am.” 

 

That was the last either of them spoke, for right at that moment there was a bright flash of light perfectly timed with lightning across the ceiling. Hermione scrunched her eyes tightly closed, half convinced that they would never open again, yet they did. And when she finally dared to peek around…

 

“Oh my!” she tried to exclaim, but of course she could not speak. Not even a meager squeak came from her mouth, and just where was her mouth? Where was Malfoy? Everything suddenly seemed so gigantic around her, and she couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like another creature where Malfoy had stood seconds before. Shockingly, she realized that her eyes weren’t quite working together. That didn’t seem right. And every so often something brushed her eyes, startling her. Did she have antenna? She shouldn’t have antenna! Otters don’t have antenna! She skittered backwards, and then skittered some more. Why did she have claws? She was a… a…. 

 

Lobster! There was a lobster facing her! 

 

“Malfoy?” Right. Can’t speak, but it must be him. Why else would there be a silvery colored lobster waving pinching claws at her from two feet away? It’s either Malfoy or someone’s dinner escaped from the kitchens. She forced her eyes to work in tandem as best they could, reared up a bit, and examined her own muddy brown claws. They were both lobsters. This made no sense. 

 

Hermione rushed over towards Malfoy’s direction, trying to remember how to change back. What was the spell? Surely she could just think it, or did she have to be touching her wand? What she failed to notice in her scuttle across the cobblestones was that Malfoy had scuttled towards her as well. Next thing she knew, their bodies clomped against each other. 

 

“Ow, ouch, ow!” She tugged and pulled, but somehow their antennae had gotten tangled together. Maybe if she worked gently with her claws… Once again, she and Malfoy seemed to be of the same mindset and their claws clunked together. Hermione yanked till it hurt, yet they stayed entwined. This was not good. Not good at all. Their beady eyes were a millimeter apart at most, claws somehow stuck together, and their antennae seemed to be getting more tangled with each breath. They needed help. 

 

A cool breeze swirled their way, and the ground beneath their feet began to rumble a bit, and Hermione realized that it was footfalls. Someone was coming into the hall as if called by their plight. 

 

“Why are the tables pushed back?” a squeaky voice boomed out. “No matter, I’ll have this fixed in a jiffy, I will!”

 

Hermione looked to Malfoy wondering what they should do. If lobster eyes could grow wide with fear, Malfoy’s would have as they watched the House-elf begin to clean the Great Hall. Tables and benches began floating to their rightful places, and with a painful jerk, Malfoy began to pull away from the legs that were sure to crush them any moment. Hermione had no choice but to run with him, lest the elf discover them and have them boiled before breakfast. He half-dragged her all the way to the doors, and out to the Entrance Hall, making it to the foot of the Grand Staircase before Hermione could stop him. 

 

As they rested (really, a lobster’s legs were entirely too short for this kind of exertion), Hermione took stock of their situation. Despite the pulling, their claws were still joined together somewhere near the joints it seemed. Their antennae were a mess from what she could see. She cursed her bushy hair in vain as it seemed to have transformed into longer than normal antennae, and she was sure that that was where the blame lay for their trouble. She cocked her left eye to look at Malfoy. They needed a plan, but how were they to communicate? 

 

Malfoy was using two of his free smaller claws to point upwards, then swirl them about. It almost looked as though he were forming letters. 

 

He was! He was forming letters! She would never doubt his intelligence again if they got out of this mess! Well, maybe she would as she had no clue as to what he was trying to spell. That looked like an “N”. He followed it with what seemed to be an “O” or maybe a “C”. Was that a “G”? She zeroed both of her eyes on his claws, tracing their movements more carefully. “A”. “L.” “L”. 

 

What?

 

Oh!

 

He was trying to spell ‘McGonagall’! Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! She tried to nod with her eyes. Then she looked up at the stairs. There was no way they could make it all the way to the Headmistress’ office. Malfoy began pushing against her, and she tried to move back. Their entangled bodies made escape impossible; he pushed her again, and then… What the hell? He climbed on top of her! What kind of nerve-! Oh. Eyes which could swivel were actually quite amazing she decided as she watched him perform a little jump from his place on her back to the first stair. He began tugging at her,to pull her up with him. With a lot of pulling and flailing of limbs, Hermione made it onto the stair with him. He immediately tried to climb on top of her back again. Oh no, this would not work for her. She roughly knocked him off with her tail, and in the process, somehow flipped them both, and landed on top of his back with her little legs dancing in the air. Hermione swore she heard Malfoy snicker. He raised up on his back legs, and she slipped off. Luckily she landed on the next stair. They could do this. 

 

It took them hours, and there were times that she was sure that they would die. Were lobsters supposed to be out of water this long? They had gills to breathe, surely they needed water. In amazement, Hermione realized that there seemed to be enough moisture in the air to sustain them, yet she still wasn’t sure how long it would last what with all this exertion. Still, score one point for the drafty castle.

 

When they finally stood outside of the Headmistress’ office, Hermione realized yet another problem: they didn’t know the password. Hell, even if they’d known it, they had no way to speak said password. Shit. She and Malfoy exchanged a worried glance with their wobbly eyes. Malfoy’s silvery body slumped down in defeat.

 

“Is it my imagination,” a gravelly voice whispered, “or do I see two tangled up lobsters?”

 

“Oh, thank Merlin,” another voice huffed. “I’d thought I was seeing things!”

 

Hermione’s beady eyes jerked up, dancing around to find the source of the voices. 

 

“I tell you what, Reginald,” the first voice spoke, “we have seen some crazy things in all of our years at this school. Students with wands up their nose, or covered in slime, or remember the time with that one kid?”

 

“Oh, the doxy bites?” The second voice let out a raucous laugh. “Poor thing. He was puffed up in rainbow colors, he was, but refused to tell what had happened! Ah, yes, good times. Never seen lobsters though.”

 

Hermione realized the voices came from the two gargoyles flanking the entrance to the Headmistress’ office. She tried to give the most pleading look that she could muster, and prayed for the best.

 

“What do you think, Reggie? You think they’re students?”

 

“Oh, they’ve got to be, Tyron. Look at the pathetic look on that brown one’s face! I didn’t know a lobster could look so pitiful!”

 

More laughter ensued before Tyron said, “Ah, what do you say? Should we alert the Headmistress?”

 

Malfoy and Hermione eagerly nodded.

 

“Don’t have to,” Reginald said. “She’s up, and heading this a way.”

 

Sure enough, the door in front of them began to move, and before Hermione or Malfoy could scuttle to the revolving stairs, McGonagall was peering out into the corridor.

 

“What is all the racket for, gentlemen?” She scowled at her two sentries.

 

“Look, ma’am,” one of them spoke, pointing down to the tangled mess of armor and antennae. “We think some students messed about and turned themselves into lobsters or something.”

 

McGonagall followed the line of his finger till her gaze landed on the lobsters before her. “Oh my,” she muttered, and reached down to pick up the entwined students.

 

Hermione blessed the name of Minerva for saving them the trouble of hoisting themselves up more stairs. That is, until she saw the smirk playing across the stern woman’s lips. Rude. 

 

McGonagall set the two lobsters on the ground in front of her desk, pulled out her wand, aimed it squarely at them, and recited the reversal spell. In a flash of blue light, Hermione found herself back in human form and seated squarely on Malfoy’s human lap. 

 

“Ugh, get off me!” he yelled, shoving her away from him. 

 

“Ow, stop that!” she hollered as her head was yanked backwards. Somehow, her hair was still tangled with his. Her arm, too, was still joined at the wrist to his wrist. This time McGonagall didn’t just smirk, she let out a full on unladylike snort. Hermione was going to smack her. Maybe.

 

McGonagall set to work on untangling their hair as she had the best vantage point for that job. Hermione meanwhile examined their joined wrists, and found that her charm bracelet was thoroughly clinging to the cuff of Malfoy’s jumper. 

 

“So, I am to take it that you are both animagi now?” McGonagall asked with amusement lacing her tone. “Not sure if I’ve ever seen lobsters before. That’s definitely a new one. And to have two students both be lobsters together at the same time? Well, that’s even more stunning!”

 

“I was supposed to be an otter,” Hermione grumbled as she worked the threads of Malfoy’s sweater out of the metal links. “My patronus is an otter. They’re supposed to match.”

 

“Patronus can change,” McGonagall replied softly. “And it’s never certain that the forms are the same. I’m not even sure if enough subjects have been tested to prove that theory.”

 

Hermione yanked on another thread. “You could help you know, instead of just sitting there on your duff like always!” she growled at Malfoy.

 

“Like always?” His face flushed red with anger. “Who was the one who figured out how to get us up here, huh? Was that ‘sitting on my duff’? Huh?”  

 

With a mighty jerk, he snapped his arm away from her, breaking the last few threads holding them together. He also broke Hermione’s charm bracelet, and beads skittered wildly across the floor. 

 

“No!” she cried, and grabbed her wand to  _ Accio  _ the scattered charms. “Ron gave me this bracelet!”

 

“No wonder it was so cheap,” Malfoy muttered. 

 

“How dare you?” she cried. “You know nothing about it. He’d saved for it! It was his present to me when I came back to school! A promise to wait for him, and you’ve ruined it! You’ve ruined everything!”

 

“Now, now, children,” McGonagall has her stern voice back on. “Hermione, it was an accident. We can  _ Reparo _ the bracelet right away.”

 

Hermione hastily wiped at the tears sneaking down her cheeks. She would not let Malfoy make her cry. She would not. McGonagall fixed her bracelet after freeing the last of their tangled tresses, and Hermione took the bracelet with a soft “Thank you” to her professor. It looked the same as it always had. She knew the repair would be flawless from McGonagall’s expert wand, yet something about it just didn’t feel right. Instead of securing it back onto her wrist, Hermione tucked the tinkling charm bracelet into the pocket of her robe. Malfoy watched her closely, though Hermione had no clue why. They exchanged a heated glance before he stood, brushing dirt and dust off his robes. 

 

“Well, this has been fun,” he said with thick sarcasm, “but I am exhausted and would like to turn in now. Lobster legs were not made for climbing stairs, you know.”

 

“Wait one minute, Mr. Malfoy.” Professor McGonagall placed a hand on his arm before he could leave, and he sneered at her. “I’d like to discuss your transformations a bit before you go. It really is such a…  _ peculiar _ form to take, especially as you both took the same form. Any ideas on what that could mean?”

 

Malfoy and Hermione met each other’s eyes and shrugged. 

 

“No clue,” he said. 

 

“I don’t think there’s ever been precedent for this,” McGonagall continued. “I really must research it, and look further into it.”

 

She started off towards the books on her shelves, stopping briefly at a table that held some spindly silver instruments which Hermione was sure Harry had mentioned belonged to Dumbledore. After several minutes of silence and little puffs of smoke from the apparatus, Malfoy once again shrugged and made his way out the door. Hermione also stood, dusted herself off, and began to follow Malfoy, only to be stopped by a burst of laughter from their Headmistress.

 

“Ma’am?” Hermione asked curiously.

 

“Did you know that lobsters mate for life?” The Headmistress asked with a smile. “Apparently once two lobsters link claws, they are bonded, and love each other fiercely till they die.”

 

“I thought that was just a rumor,” Hermione said, confused. “What does that have to do with Malfoy-“ She gasped. “You don’t think-“

 

With another boisterous laugh and a knowing smirk, Professor McGonagall walked out of the room. Hermione stood in the doorway gulping for air like a fish- or maybe a lobster in this case- out of water, before turning and rushing down the stairs screaming for Malfoy.


End file.
